


A Hug... With Rope

by Elle Gray (LGray)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Partners, Auror Training, Japanese Rope Bondage, M/M, No Sex, Not Even Any Touching, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Wizards learning Muggle Things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-01 19:02:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17249663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LGray/pseuds/Elle%20Gray
Summary: Harry explores his hobbies while Draco gets a bit tied up at work.





	A Hug... With Rope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [OTPshipper98](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPshipper98/gifts).



> From the combined prompting of Starboi and Marina, and Quicksilvermaid's ever-present influence. Totally un-beta'ed, please comment if you find any typos! Marked Mature because we don't want 13 year olds Googling shibari.

'Stay still,' Harry growled.

'I'm trying, you're jostling me.'

'Oh, I'm _jostling_ you? Terribly sorry, _Sir_.'

'You _should_ call me Sir,' Draco scowled. 'You uncivilised peasant.'

'Yeah, cos standing around in a room with a bunch of twinks in Auror uniforms, tying you to a chair and calling you _Sir_ doesn't sound like the beginning of a porno.'

'I don't know what a _twink_ is, but it all sounds like training, to me, Potter. Emergency Non-magical Suspect Restraint Techniques. Or did you think this was for fun?'

'They might call it that, but what it actually is,' Harry pulled the rope tight, 'Is low-key bondage. And I won't call it fun until I'm allowed to gag you.'

'You wouldn't dare.'

'You wouldn't have a choice, _Sir,'_ Harry smirked. 'You're tied to a chair.'

Draco glared up at him over his shoulder as Harry surveyed his handiwork. They weren't his best knots, but the standard issue black nylon rope wasn't as pliant as silk and he'd been trying to avoid damaging his training partner too much. Despite the temptation.

He ran a practiced hand over the ridges of the kunuki he'd just tied, slid his fingers either side it just to check it was safe. Heaven knew Malfoy would whinge about it if he hurt him.

'If I'm already tied to the chair, why are you still going?'

'I'm making it pretty.'

'What the fuck is wrong with you, Potter?'

'Nothing. Does it hurt anywhere?'

'You're going to ask criminals if it hurts?'

'I'm asking _you_ if it hurts.'

'I'm fine, just get on with it.'

'I am, calm down', Harry soothed. 'Think of it as a hug. With knots.'

Draco snorted his contempt as Harry looped the rope around his chest again, slowly, carefully binding it to the first loops so he couldn't wriggle out of it, then taking some time to fiddle with the knots and align them properly around the back of the chair. He sat back after a while, assessing, tail end held taught in his hand.

'Are you done yet?' Came a soft voice from above him. He looked up, and found Draco trying to look over his shoulder again. With his head tipped back like that he left his throat exposed, and the pale expanse of skin was hypnotic, moving as he spoke again, the soft sparkle of a day's stubble begging to be stroked. 'This isn't entirely comfortable.'

'I asked you before if it hurt.'

'It doesn't hurt, it's just. Weird.'

'Weird bad or weird good?'

'Forget it, Potter, just hurry up.'

'I'm close, don't worry,' Harry said and smirked to himself. Given an entirely different set of circumstances… and a willing mouth, he could be. Quickly.

He tugged the tail through a couple of half hitches and severed the ends, tucking them away. He liked them neat. Maybe a bit too much. He was already half hard under his robes and he hadn't even had a proper look yet. He'd been teasing himself for the last twenty minutes, sneaking glances in the wall-to-wall mirrors and it'd been… well. Arousing. And very, very ill-advised. But how does one say no to such an opportunity? Job-sanctioned bondage and a supplicant Malfoy to practice on.

He rose to his feet, keeping his shoulders forward slightly to hide the bulge of his cock amongst the folds of fabric. He walked around the chair once, committing it all to memory. The pose, the ropework, the slightly hunted look about his subject. This is what pensieves were made for.

'Dare I ask what that expression is about?' Malfoy drawled, haughtiness not quite hiding the uncertainty in his voice. Harry's gaze flicked to his face again, noting the wide grey eyes, pupils far bigger than they should be in a well-lit room, a slight tension in his jaw. Harry looked away, squashing down his body's natural response, taking in the details of Malfoy's image from the ground up this time. Polished black dragonhide boots, flat on the floor. Slim fitting grey trousers hugging every inch of his legs, tight across his thighs where he sat on the simple wooden chair. Perhaps a slight tenting at his crotch, or maybe it was just a trick of the zip, he shouldn't linger on it, it wouldn't do to have someone notice his attention. Malfoy's hips were narrow, belted with black dragonhide again, the buckle all simple shapes and shining edges. His shirt was tucked in primly, stark white under the jet black bindings, form-fitting enough that it barely obscured Harry's work. He looked magnificent.

'You look pretty good.'

'I look pretty good? Tied up?'

'Sorry,' Harry smirked. 'You look pretty good, tied up, _Sir.'_

With the unforgiving overhead lights and the paleness of his skin, Malfoy's blush was like a beacon on a dark night. And that was all the indication Harry would need.


End file.
